Out of Desperation
by PiperPaigePhoebe01
Summary: Sirius, desperate after Lily and James' death, invokes an old and obscure curse that will save their lives. Except things don't end up the way he planned... and the Marauders are in for a big surprise back in the past.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. The Harry Potter books belong to J. K. Rowling, and I do not own the text of _The Sorcerer's Stone _that will occur in the following pages.

**Author's Note: **There have been quite a few "Marauders read Harry Potter" stories going around, but from what I skimmed through, they are all a bit one-note. This is my attempt at fixing that, because there is so much you can do with this idea. I hope you like it.

**Summary: **Sirius, desperate after Lily and James' death, invokes an old and obscure curse that will save their lives. Except things don't end up the way he planned... and the Marauders are in for a big surprise back in the past.

**Out of Desperation**_  
by PiperPaigePhoebe01_

Prologue

When he heard the news, he wasn't sure how to react.

Anger roared up in him first—_how dare he do that, how dare Peter betray us like that—_but was soon replaced by guilt—_how could I have been so stupid? Obviously it was Peter—_and then shame—dark and deep—and grief roared up inside him.

Desperation was next.

He pressed his hands into fists, angry tears building up in his eyes. And then he looked up, desperate, determined, and dug around in his pocket for his wand. His fingers closed around it, he lifted it out of his pocket, turned on his heel, and disappeared into the night.

There was a brief squeezing sensation—which was actually welcome; it squeezed his feelings down, deep down—and then he reappeared, right in front of an old, disheveled-looking house.

He didn't allow himself to think, because if he did, he would surely second guess himself. Instead, he stomped his way up to the house and the large brass door. A serpent knocker was placed directly in the middle, but Sirius didn't pay much mind to it. He pulled on the doorknob a bit harder than necessary, and the door flew open, a great cloud of dust greeting him.

He coughed once, then twice, holding his hand up to his nose. Without preamble, he entered the dark and dreary house.

Now, where _was _it?

_Damn it, why isn't there a map or something?_

Sirius punched the nearest wall as he walked by, but then broke into a run. He ran up the steps to the attic—hopefully it was there, it _needed _to be there—kicking up piles of dust from the carpet.

It seemed to take a decade to reach the attic, but he did eventually, only to stop in his tracks at the boxes piled up.

There had to be a hundred boxes—and none of them were labeled, all of them covered with a thick layer of dust.

_Damn it._

Sirius didn't know where to start. A string of curses released themselves from their bindings, escaping into the room. He finally decided to just sit down and pull the box closest to him, only to remember, abruptly, like he had suddenly forgotten, that he was clutching his wand tightly.

Letting one more curse escape, he stood up and whispered.

"_Accio _book."

Nothing happened.

"Fuck." He let out a breath, and spoke louder. "_Accio _book."

Again, nothing.

"Bloody, fucking _hell_." He closed his eyes, anger coursing through his veins, and spoke. "_Accio _book."

Finally, there was a commotion in the corner farthest from him, like a box was moving across a friction-rich floor, and then a crash of another box falling. Shane let out another huge breath, this one of relief, and climbed around and over boxes, until he finally reached the source of the commotion.

Not willing to get his hopes up _quite _yet, he tried to keep himself contained as he slowly opened the box. More dust arose as Sirius lifted the thin, protective covering off the top, revealing a thick, leather-bound book.

He recognized the book.

He had gotten it right.

And yet...

Doubt rose in his mind, but... _no_, he wasn't one to let guilt get the better of himself. He lifted the book out of the box carefully, setting it on the floor beside him. The memories suddenly came back to him as he flipped through the book; it only took him a second to reach the page he needed.

The title jumped out at him.

_How to Change What Was, What Is, and What Will Be._

The title sounded like a solemn bell toll in his ears, a warning sign, but he didn't mind it. In situations like this, he never paid attention to his common sense.

A knot grew in his stomach as he imagined James' comment to that.

("_You _have common sense? You, Sirius Black? I never woulda thought!" with a cheeky grin and a shove.)

_Come on, Padfoot._

_Get it together. You are doing it for them._

That, more than anything, braced him for the task he was about to do. As he readied his wand, he summoned to mind James' bright Animagus form, a stag, on one of the fun nights with Moony—another knot tied itself in his stomach at the thought of him—when Padfoot and Prongs had wrestled while Wormtail hung onto Moony by biting his tail, which Moony was _definitely _not happy about.

And Lily.

Lily, Lily, Lily.

He couldn't say he _liked _Lily, but he put up with her because, well, James was in love with her, and it's not like you could hate her for that. And he had to say she was a fine bird, all fiery red hair and bright green eyes like grass.

He clutched his wand so tightly his knuckles turned white. His eyes scanned the incantation on the page for a few minutes, followed by the directions, until he was sure he knew it by heart.

This was it.

He took a deep breath, let it out.

The incantation ran itself through his mind once more. Sirius slowly began reciting it, closing his eyes. He could feel his wand move through the pattern he had memorized, feel the magic embrace him, fill him, surround him, until that was all he could feel. He heard himself continue to recite the incantation, even though he was no longer consciously doing it.

The last syllable escaped his lips, and the feeling of magic was abruptly gone, and with it, he could feel his breath leave for a brief moment.

Inhale, exhale.

He repeated this a few times, until his breathing was back to normal. He dropped his wand and reached into his other pocket.

There was a glint of silver.

Silver glinted against tan skin, then—red. He gasped, panted, for breath as the brief sting of the cut overtook him, and then blood ran down his arm. Sirius raised his arm, right over the parchment, and watched as blood ran down his arm, down the toned muscles, and then as it clung to his skin for a brief moment, and finally, slowly, one drop dripped onto the parchment.

It began dissolving—

And then there was an explosion, smoke came into his eyes. He couldn't breathe—he was overcome—_oh, bloody hell—_

Blackness covered his vision.

He fell, down, down, down.

And a book landed with a soft _thump _on a bed.

-

**Author's Note**: Okay, so there it is. Please review and tell me what you think?


	2. Chapter 1: The Boy Who Lived

**Out of Desperation**_  
by PiperPaigePhoebe01_

Chapter One

**August 15, 1976  
Potter's Castle**

"Hey, Padfoot. Come look at this."

James stared at the book on his bed. Sirius came up behind him and stared at the book as well.

"Moony, come look at this."

He did, bringing Peter with him. There was silence for a moment as they all stared at the book.

"Prongs?" Remus finally asked. "Do you even have a relative named Harry?"

James shrugged, shaken out of his trance. "I dunno," he said. "I might. But not one famous enough to have a book written about him."

Remus leaned forward and plucked the book off the bed. He read the cover once more.

"_Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_, by J. K. Rowling," he said aloud, flipping to the first page. "Maybe there's something in the verso page that'll tell us where it came from."

"The what page?"

Remus rolled his eyes at Peter. "The verso page, the page that says where it was written, when it was written, stuff like that." He scanned the page quickly, then clutched the book tightly. "It says it was published in _1997._"

"But that's impossible!" Peter protested.

"Nothing's impossible in magic," Remus responded. "But—where would we get this?"

"Maybe it was sent."

"Who would send us a magical book from the future? And why?"

Remus shrugged. "I don't know. But maybe this Harry is a relative of yours, from the future, James. Maybe this book was sent here for a reason. It might tell the future."

Flipping the book over, he read the back summary.

"_Harry Potter has never played a sport while flying on a broomstick_," he began, ignoring James and Sirius' shocked gasps. "_He's never worn a cloak of invisibility, befriended a giant, or helped hatch a dragon. All Harry knows is his miserable life with the Dursleys, his horrible aunt and uncle, and their abominable son, Dudley._"

All four snickered.

"_Harry's room is a tiny closet at the foot of the stairs, and he hasn't had a birthday party in eleven years._"

"Poor bloke," James said sympathetically.

"_But all that is about to change when a mysterious letter arrives by owl messenger: a letter with an invitation to a wonderful place he never dreamed existed. There he finds not only friends, aerial sports, and magic around every corner, but a great destiny that's been waiting for him... if Harry can survive the encounter._"

Remus stopped reading and looked up at James.

"If this is a relative of yours, then he's _wicked_," Sirius said before Remus could.

James shrugged. "How can he be?" he said rationally. "I mean, he doesn't even know about magic, so he's probably a Muggleborn. If he was a relative, why wouldn't he know about magic?"

"I don't know," Remus said. "Maybe something happened to his parents."

"Maybe."

"Let's read and find out," Remus suggested, and Sirius groaned.

"Not more reading," he protested.

Remus ignored this protest, opening the book to the first chapter. Clearing his throat, he began to read.

_Chapter One: The Boy Who Lived_

_Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense._

James rolled his eyes. "They sound like snobs."

There was a mumbled agreement.

_Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills._

"What're drills?" Sirius asked curiously.

Remus looked up from the book. "It's a sort of metal object used for putting holes in things. Now stop interrupting."

"Why would you want to put holes in things?"

Remus shrugged. "How should I know?" he said, and looked back at the book.

_He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere._

"Ugh. What an ugly match."

"That Mrs. Dursley sounds familiar," James muttered, "but I can't remember where—"

_The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that someone would discover it._

"Of course," Remus muttered. "If they didn't have a secret, there wouldn't be much point in the story."

_They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be._

"Hey! The Potters aren't good-for-nothing!"

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look. "What about your great-uncle Jerry?"

James paused to think. "Well, maybe _some _Potters are good-for-nothing. But I'm not!" And he puffed his chest out proudly.

The other three Marauders snickered until the story picked up once more.

_The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that._

"A child like what?" Peter inquired.

"A magical one, probably."

_When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull grey Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair._

_None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window._

Sirius snickered. "Just like Muggles," he said. "Can't see what's right in front of them half the time."

"Really," James agreed. "They can be intelligent sometimes—that tellyphone sounds rather ingenious—but they don't notice _anything._"

"You'd think they'd notice owls, though," Remus said. "I wonder why they're in plain sight. Normally they know better."

James and Sirius shrugged, and Remus continued.

_At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls._

All four of them rolled their eyes.

"Brat," James muttered.

"_Little tyke_," _chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house._

This time, they all made a face. Sirius opened his mouth to say something, but trailed off at a sharp look from Remus.

_He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive._

_It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar—a cat reading a map._

"But cats don't read maps!"

James sighed. "No, Peter," he said, "but _Animagi _do. Bet you six sickles it's McGonagall."

"Deal."

They shook.

_For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen—then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight._

"Ha," James said. "McGonagall is a tabby cat. Pay up."

"Not yet," Peter shot back. "It might not be McGonagall."

"Oh, it is," James said convincingly, but simply plopped down on the floor and waited for Remus to begin again.

_What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive—no, _looking _at the sign; cats couldn't read maps _or _signs._

"No, but Animagi can," Sirius said smugly.

_Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day._

"I will never understand how Muggles can be so _boring_," James said.

_But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks._

This time, James, Sirius or Peter didn't interrupt. This time, Remus stopped reading and stared at each of them.

"I don't understand," he said slowly. "Wizards aren't usually that irresponsible—I mean, there are rules and stuff against wizards going out in public wearing robes and stuff like that—the Ministry enforces them—so why would they risk it?"

"Something big must have happened," James said.

"It must be really big," Remus said. "Because why wouldn't the Ministry do something about it?"

None of them had an answer, so Remus returned to the book.

_Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes—the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing a emerald-green cloak!_

Peter snorted. "You'd think he'd know they're wizards. They probably know about magic, right?"

"Well, they don't seem like the sharpest quills in the bunch, Peter," James said.

_The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt—these people were obviously collecting for something... yes, that would be it._

"Funny how Muggles try as hard as they can to ignore magic," Sirius said. "Even when it's right in front of them."

_The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills._

"Funny how they change their mind so often," James added. "How do they do it?"

"At least their brains aren't as scattered as yours, Prongs," Sirius said.

"Hey!"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Can't you guys stop interrupting me for one second?"

James and Sirius exchanged looks.

"No."

"But go ahead, Moony," James added.

_Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. _He _didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead._

Remus interrupted himself this time.

"Something must have happened," he said. "Otherwise, there wouldn't be that many owls flying about, in broad daylight. The Muggles are getting suspicious."

"What could've happened?"

"Dunno," he replied. "Let's find out."

_Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime._

James snickered.

_He yelled at five different people._

"How pleasant," Peter muttered.

_He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more._

"Wow, he certainly likes yelling," Sirius said.

"Maybe he should go to anger management classes," James suggested.

"Yeah!"

_He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery._

"I doubt he needs one of those," Sirius said. "He's fat enough already."

_He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy._

"Well, they're magical, and he's dull as a rock," James said. "So it makes sense."

Sirius snickered.

_This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin._

"Obviously," Peter murmured.

_It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying._

"_The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard—"_

"—_yes, their son, Harry—"_

Remus frowned, looking up at the book. "Reckon this has anything to do with the owls?"

"They must," James said. "But how?"

"I dunno."

_Mr. Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it._

"Maybe these Potters are the same ones that the Dursleys are related to," Peter suggested.

"They have to be," Sirius said, "or they wouldn't be mentioned otherwise. Right, Moony?"

Remus nodded.

_He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind._

"_Again?_" James asked.

_He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking... no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name._

"That's true," James said. "Lots of people are named Potter."

_He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry._

"Somehow, I doubt that."

_Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew _was _called Harry. He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold. There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her—if _he'd _had a sister like that... but all the same, those people in cloaks..._

"A sister like what?" Sirius asked.

James remained silent for once. The mention of Mrs. Dursley seemed to stir something in his memory, but he couldn't remember what. And her sister...

_He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon—_

"Can he ever concentrate?" Peter asked.

"Apparently not," James said.

—_and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door._

"How rude."

"_Sorry_," _he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last!_"

Remus dropped the book and met the gaze of three equally confused and shocked Marauders.

"He—he's _gone_?" Peter croaked. "He's really _gone_?"

"He must be—this book says he is—" James said.

"But how is that possible?"

"Can this book really be telling the future?" Remus muttered, eyes still trained on the words in front of him. "I mean, it mentions You-Know-Who—and it seems realistic—"

Sirius shook his head. "Go on," he said. "If it is—then we have to read more."

"It has to be telling the future," James said. "There's no other explanation."

There really was no alternate explanation. After all, it had appeared on their bed suddenly, by magic, without any prior warning. It proclaimed to be from 1997, and mentioned the magical world.

It had to be true.

And that meant Voldemort was gone.

A broad smile spread across Remus' face as he picked up the book again. Three more joined his as he continued reading.

"_Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!_"

_And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off._

_Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot._

"Well, I would be too, if I just found out You-Know-Who was _gone_," Sirius said, and let out a loud whoop.

Everyone murmured their assent.

_He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination._

Everyone laughed.

"How can you not approve of _imagination?_" James asked.

"I don't know," Remus said.

_As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw—and it didn't improve his mood—was the tabby cat he'd spotted this morning._

"I can't believe that the cat was there that whole time," Peter said.

"Well, it's not _just _a cat," James said. "It has to be McGonagall. Get ready with the six sickles, Peter!"

_It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes._

"Another point for me," James said. "McGonagall's form has spectacle markings around her eyes."

"_Shoo!_" _said Mr. Dursley loudly._

"Like that'll work," Sirius muttered.

_The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look._

James laughed. "McGonagall," he said in a sing-song voice. "Pay up, Peter!"

Seemingly sensing his defeat, Peter dug in his pockets and pulled out six sickles. He shoveled the silver into James' hand, who grinned and pocketed it. McGonagall's stern look was well-known to them all, after all, in both forms.

_Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife._

_Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!")._

"How spoiled," James grumbled. "If I ever have a son, I won't let him act that way."

Sirius exchanged a look with Remus and Peter.

"You? Have a _son_?" He let out a gasp. "Oh, the horrors!"

James shoved Sirius. "Stuff it," he murmured.

"James, that's not very polite," Sirius retorted. "Shouldn't you set a good example for your would-be son?"

Remus, playing along, shuddered. "To think of another Potter around!"

Not able to reach Remus across the circle they had ended up forming as they all sat down to read, James grabbed a pillow from his bed and threw it across the middle at Remus. He caught it deftly with one hand and continued to read.

_Mr. Dursley tried to act normally._

"Well, that shouldn't be hard," James said. "After all, 'Mr. and Mrs. Dursley were proud to say they were perfectly normal.'"

_When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news._

"_And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight—_"

"No, really?" Sirius asked sarcastically. "I never would have guessed!"

"—_there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise._"

"Well, of course!" James burst out. "Because You-Know-Who is gone!"

And the idea made the Marauders all grin.

"_Experts have been unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"_

Sirius rolled his eyes.

"How clever."

"_Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early—it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight._"

"Everyone in the wizarding world must be celebrating," Peter said.

"Of course they are, Pete," Sirius said. "Who wouldn't be, if You-Know-Who was gone for good!"

"I can't believe it," James said, almost to himself. "He's finally defeated."

"I just wish we knew when," Remus said.

"Maybe the book will tell us, if the book really does tell the future," Sirius responded.

_Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters..._

"I want to know about these Potters!" James said. "How are they related to this?"

Instead of answering outright, Remus shrugged and continued reading.

_Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er—Petunia, dear—you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?_"

"That name sounds familiar," Remus muttered. "Does it sound familiar to anyone else?"

"Yeah, but I don't know where I heard it," James said.

_As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister._

"_No," she said sharply. "Why?"  
_

"_Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls... shooting stars... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..._"

"Hey! Wizards aren't funny-looking!" James protested.

"Unless you're talking about that one girl, Hera Smith," Sirius replied.

James thought about that for a while. "Right. Unless you're talking about Hera Smith."

"_**So**__?" snapped Mrs. Dursley._

"_Well, I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know... _her _crowd_."

"If they mean wizards and witches, why don't they just say it?" Peter asked.

"Because they're afraid," Remus said. "Remember how they said they couldn't bear it if anyone found out about the Potters?"

"Well, I don't think I could either," Sirius joked. "Those Potters. Can't even mention them around here without quaking in my boots."

James shoved Sirius. "You're not wearing boots."

"So?"

"So, the saying's useless!"

"No, it's an expression," Sirius said, proud. He turned to Remus. "See, I actually learned something from you!"

Remus applauded lightly. "Good for you, Padfoot," he said. "Now can I get back to reading?"

"Oh, yes," Sirius said.

"Go on."

_Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare._

James opened his mouth to ask, once again, what was so bad about the Potters, but promptly closed his mouth at the expression on Remus' face.

_Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son—he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"_

"_I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly._

"_What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"_

"_Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."_

"Not any worse than Dudley," Sirius scoffed.

"_Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."_

_He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the __front garden. The cat was still there._

"I wonder why," Peter mused.

_It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something._

"...oh. That explains it."

_Was he imagining things?_

James snickered. "Of course not," he said. "After all, you don't 'approve of' imagination."

_Could all this have anything to do with the Potters?_

"Probably," Sirius said.

_If it did... if it got out that they were related to a pair of—well, he didn't think he could bear it._

"Their medieval attitude toward magic is really annoying," James said. "Us wizards aren't that bad. Most of the time."

Sirius nodded. "They could at least say 'wizard'. It's not like the word is going to murder them or something."

"No, but there are other words that can," James said, and froze.

There was a moment of tense silence—why did he say that?—and then Remus resumed reading.

_The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters _were _involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about him and their kind... He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on—he yawned and turned over—it couldn't affect _them...

_How very wrong he was._

"Ha," Sirius said. "Now things are getting good! Er, better."

"Maybe now we'll figure what this is all about," James said. "I want to know who this Harry character is!"

_Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all._

"And she had been sitting there all day?" Sirius asked.

James grinned. "Sounds like our McGonagall!"

_A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground._

"He must have Apparated," James said.

"No, the book says he appeared silently, so he must have used a Portkey," Remus said. "Apparation makes a noise."

"Maybe he's so used to it, it was silent."

Remus shrugged. "Maybe."

_The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed._

"Oh, McGonagall's _aaaangryyyy_," Sirius said in a singsong voice.

_Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. _

"Dumbledore!" Peter cried.

_He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore._

"Of course," James and Sirius said, just as soon as Peter said, in a tone full of triumph, "I knew it!"

"There wasn't anyone else it could be," Remus agreed. "But what is he doing in Privet Drive?"

_Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and murmured, "I should have known."_

James grinned. "Dumbledore doesn't care if he doesn't fit."

"If he did, he wouldn't get anywhere," Sirius said.

_He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter._

"What would Dumbledore be doing with a cigarette lighter?"

"Merlin knows," Peter said, shrugging.

_He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop._

"Wicked," Sirius breathed. "I want one!"

_He clicked it again—the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement._

The four teens stared at each other.

"Dumbledore's up to something," they said, at the same time.

"And McGonagall's with him, the old dog," Sirius said, grinning.

_Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it._

"_Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."_

"You know, I wonder why they call each other 'Professor,'" James said thoughtfully. "Shouldn't they refer to each other by their first names?"

"Tradition," Sirius said, waving a hand distractedly. "It's been like that ever since Hogwarts was founded, and hasn't changed. It's a gesture of respect."

James glanced at Sirius. "How do you know that?"

Sirius thought for a moment. "Well... Remus told it to me, who heard it from Marlene, who heard it from Alice, who heard it from Lily, who read about it in _Hogwarts, a History._"

At the mention of Lily, James grew slightly starstruck. The past year—ever since Lily had finally managed to break away from that greasy slimeball, Snape—Lily had grown closer to James, even though they still argued and they never brought up the OWL incident of their fifth year.

It took several snaps of his fingers to bring James back into awareness once more, but he finally shook himself, said "Oh, yes," and turned to listen to Remus.

_He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled._

"Well, I'd look ruffled too if I had been waiting on a brick wall all day," Peter pointed out.

"_How did you know it was me?" she asked._

_"My dear Professor, I'm never seen a cat sit so stiffly."_

"If I was her," Sirius declared, "I might be a bit offended."

"Good thing you're not her, Padfoot," James teased. "I doubt you would look good as a woman."

Sirius shoved him. "Yeah, well, neither would you. And I prefer to date women, not _be _them."

James and Sirius snickered.

"_You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall._

James, Sirius and Remus all turned to Peter.

"What?" he asked.

"That's _scary_, mate," Sirius said. "You'd think you were in McGonagall's head, the way you realized what she was going to say."

Peter blushed, but couldn't _quite _think of a good comeback.

"_All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."_

"Of course!" James said, standing up. "After all, You-Know-Who is _gone_!"

And he proceeded to do a little jig around the room, which Sirius promptly joined. Remus and Peter simply alternated staring at each other in amusement and laughing their heads off at the two, until James and Sirius finally plopped down on the floor again, leaning against the headboard of James' bed.

"Continue," they said.

_Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily._

"_Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no—even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls... shooting stars... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent—I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."_

"Oh, come _on_, Minnie," Sirius said. "Lighten up a bit."

"Yeah, You-Know-Who is gone!" Peter said. "We deserve to celebrate!"

"_You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently._

"Of course you can't!"

"_We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."_

At this, there was silence. They all remembered what had been going on for their first six years at Hogwarts, and would most likely continue going on. None of them would ever forget the first Dark Mark they saw in _The Daily Prophet_, or the tears as one Hogwarts student after another was told of their loved ones' deaths...

And it was getting worse. Attacks were growing more frequent, and You-Know-Who's zest for power was bringing him ever closer to Hogwarts, to the sanctuary of witches and wizards alike—and who knows how long they'd be able to fight him off? Dumbledore was You-Know-Who's biggest enemy, but—

Pretty soon, "fear" would not be in You-Know-Who's vocabulary.

Remus cleared his throat in the uncomfortable silence.

"_I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads."_

"Like she could ever lose her head," James muttered.

"_People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."_

_She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on._

"What does Minnie want Dumbledore to tell her?" Sirius asked.

Remus sighed. "Shut up for a few minutes and I'll tell you."

"_A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really _has _gone, Dumbledore?"_

And without meaning to, they all leaned closer to the book, as if that would give them the answer they were hoping for. Remus's voice was hushed, quiet, as he read the last few sentences, then grew louder as he read the words they'd been wishing for.

"_It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore._

They all let out a whoop.

"_We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"_

"That's right," James cheered, then frowned. "Wait, what's a lemon drop?"

"_A _what_?"_

"_A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."_

Sirius laughed. "Of course. Dumbledore's always been fascinated with Muggle sweets. He always has at least one type at the Opening Feast."

"Those peppermint candies were good!" Peter chipped in.

"So were the—erm, what did he call them?"

"Mars Bars!"

"Oh, yes—"

"Those were so good—"

"Maybe he'll have them at the feast again this year!"

"_No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who _has _gone—_"

"_My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense—for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name—"_

Remus stopped. "Guys—"

"Just say it," James said.

It took a few tries, but Remus eventually got it out.

"_Voldemort._"

The response was instantaneous. Even though James and Sirius tried not to, they both flinched slightly, Peter nearly jumped up in fright, and Remus had to close his eyes before continuing.

_Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."_

This time, they managed to control themselves.

"Of course," James said, "because you're _Dumbledore_, the only one You—_Voldemort _was ever frightened of."

"_I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know—oh, all right, _Voldemort_, was frightened of."_

Peter was the only one to flinch. The rest of them stiffened slightly—they still hated hearing the name—but decided they'd better get used to this. Sirius mentioned this to Peter, who colored slightly and nodded.

"_You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."_

_"Only because you're too—well—_noble _to use them."_

"_It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."_

James and Sirius choked. Remus grinned at the book.

_Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the _rumors _that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"_

_It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer._

"We're finally going to hear about what stopped Voldemort?" James asked, who had grown braver after hearing Dumbledore refer to You-Know-Who as Voldemort and was apparently going to follow in his footsteps.

"It has to have something to do with this Harry bloke," Sirius said.

"But he must be just a baby!"

James shrugged. "Moony, just continue!"

They all leaned in closer to the book.

"_What they're _saying_," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are—are—that they're—_dead._"_

Everyone in the room froze.

James stared at the book with an expression of shock, awe and horror on his face. Sirius had looked, just for a moment, as though he wanted to congratulate James on finally grabbing the girl, but stopped himself as those words—"They're dead"—escaped Remus's lips. Remus himself looked as though he wanted to take the words back. Peter let out a squeak of alarm and stared wide-eyed at James, who finally managed to open his mouth.

"I—I'm _married _to Evans?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I marry—I _marry _Evans, but—but then I'm _killed_?"

"James—"

"How could this happen?" James asked. His voice wavered. "Lily—she doesn't even—she can't—and Voldemort turned up and k-killed us."

"I—maybe this book isn't accurate?"

James shook his head. "It has to be," James said. He looked shaken, but didn't say another word. There was nothing else to do but read on.

_Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped._

"_Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..."_

"Yeah, well, I don't want to believe it either," James said.

Except this book came for a reason, and it _seemed _to tell the future. It wouldn't have come if it didn't have a meaning—

James just hoped, deep down, that it was sent so that he could change the future.

_Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know..." he said heavily._

_Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But—he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke—and that's why he's gone."_

Sirius looked at James.

"It all makes sense now," he said. "The owls, the people in cloaks, the celebrations, the whispers—they're all celebrating because your son defeated Voldemort. See, James, something good came out of it!"

James shrugged. "How? How could they have killed us and not him?"

"I don't know," Remus said. "I don't understand."

"At least You-Know-Who's gone!" Peter added.

James nodded shortly and kept silent.

_Dumbledore nodded glumly._

"_It's—it's _true_?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"_

"I—I thought it was impossible for anyone—_anyone_, except Dumbledore—to escape Voldemort," Remus said softly, awestruck. "James, how did your son do it?"

"I don't know," James said glumly, "considering I was probably dead by then."

"James—"

"Never mind," James said. "Just continue."

"_We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."_

"I bet Dumbledore will find out what happened," Sirius said, "and find out how he was saved."

"I hope so," James said, who was staring at the book as though he could somehow change the words on the page—and in so doing, change his future.

_Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it._

"I've never seen McGonagall or Dumbledore cry," Peter said softly.

"I never knew they cared so much," James muttered. His humor seemed to have temporarily deserted him. "I can't believe this. Or—I can, but I don't _want _to."

"None of us do, Prongs," Sirius said.

_It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge._

"My cousin, Andromeda, has a watch like that," Sirius said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "She said she'd give one to me for my birthday this year."

_It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late."_

"Hagrid?" James said. "What's he doing in the story?"

"_I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"_

"_Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me _why _you're here, of all places?"_

"_I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."_

"WHAT?" James stormed. "But how is that possible? I mean, my mum and dad—and my cousins—and what about you guys?" He turned to his fellow Marauders. "I mean, I'd leave him to Sirius or—or _someone_! Not those—those _Muggles_! They _hate _Harry!"

"And Lily would _never _let her son to go to Petunia; they hate magic!" Remus said. "She'd never allow it!"

"Maybe you never wrote a will," Sirius offered.

"But—but we must have!" James said. "Lily—she would have—if we _had _gotten married, in th war, she would have forced us to write a will."

Peter stared at them all.

"I'm confused," he said succinctly.

"_You don't mean—you _can't _mean the people who live _here_?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four._

"I couldn't agree more," James muttered darkly.

"_Dumbledore—you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son—I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"_

Judging from the looks of disgust on all four Marauders' faces, they all agreed wholeheartedly with McGonagall.

"_It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly._

James snorted. "Ha. Yeah right."

"_His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."_

"Okay," James said. "It's official. Dumbledore is off his rocker."

"A letter can't explain all of this," Sirius said. "And why isn't he with me? Or one of us?"

James shook his head. "I don't know," he said, "but this future is not one I want to happen anytime soon."

"_A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous—a legend—I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future—there will be books written about Harry—every child in our world will know his name!"_

"Wow, Prongs," Sirius said, slightly awestruck. "I never thought your son'd ever be this famous."

"Well, he did defeat Voldemort," James said, and couldn't help feeling a little prideful.

"_Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"_

There was silence for a moment. Then—

"I suppose he _does _have a point," Remus said. "Living in the wizarding world would be too much for him. He shouldn't have to deal with all that before he's ready."

"But who says he has to live in the wizarding world?" Sirius asked. "Why can't one of us—or one of James' relatives—take him in and leave the wizarding world for a couple of years? Why does he have to stay with the Dursleys?"

Remus shook his head. "I've given up trying to understand Dumbledore."

"He must have a reason for it," James admitted grudgingly.

_Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes—yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it._

_"Hagrid's bringing him."_

"_You think it—_wise—_to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"_

"Hagrid!" James yelled. "Of course! Hagrid's the one person I'd trust with Harry!"

Sirius gave him a look. "Except me, of course!"

"And me!"

"And me!" Peter chipped in.

James grinned. "Except you guys."

"_I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore._

"_I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless."_

"That's true," Peter added.

"_He does tend to—what was that?"_

_A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky—and a huge motorbike fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them._

"Wicked," James said in awe.

"I want one!" Sirius added.

Peter, too, looked to be in awe of the motorbike in the book, but Remus frowned and asked, "Wouldn't it wake the Muggles?"

"Not that they'd see if it did," James pointed out.

_If the motorbike was huge, it was nothing compared to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so _wild—_long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets._

"It's Harry!" James proclaimed, rather unnecessarily.

"_Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorbike?"_

_"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorbike as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me."_

Remus stopped reading.

"You have a _motorbike?_" Remus asked.

Sirius looked to be in awe. "I'm _wicked _in the future," he proclaimed.

Rolling his eyes at the look on James and Sirius' faces, he continued.

"_I've got him, sir."_

"_No problems, were there?"_

"_No, sir—house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."_

_Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning._

"He has your hair, Prongs," Sirius said.

James couldn't help grinning. "I hope he ruffles it when he gets older," he said, ruffling his own. "And he should have Lily's eyes..."

His own eyes turned slightly dreamy, and Remus rolled his eyes.

"_Is that where—?" whispered Professor McGonagall._

"_Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."_

"That must've been where he was hit with the curse," Remus muttered, "and where he deflected it."

"I wonder if everyone who deflects _Avada Kedavra _gets a scar like that," Peter mused.

"Well, we wouldn't really know, now would we, considering my son is the only one to have ever deflected the curse," James snapped, and Peter muttered an apology.

"_Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"_

"_Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground."_

The Marauders couldn't help snickering.

"_Well—give him here, Hagrid—we'd better get this over with."_

_Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the house._

James swallowed a lump in his throat.

So this was it.

His son—his future son—was going to live with Lily—his future _wife's—_relatives who hated magic. He was dead, Lily was dead, and even though Voldemort was dead too, there was no one to take care of his son.

It seemed hard to believe that he had a son, but it felt _right—_and the thought of him going to live with his Muggle relatives was almost too much.

"_Could I—could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog._

"_Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!"_

Sirius laughed. "If that motorbike didn't wake up the Muggles, _nothing _will."

"_S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it—Lily an' James dead—an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles—_"

"I can't stand it either," James said.

"Me either."

"Yeah."

"Same."

"_Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out._

Even in James Potter's room, the faces were somber. Sirius was staring fixedly at a spot over James' head, Remus was staring at the words on the page as though hoping he could change them, Peter looked like he was going to cry, and James was—what was James?

Numb, shocked, grief-stricken, surprised... confused.

"How can they do that?" James asked. "Just leave him on the step like that and wait for the Muggles to pick him up?"

"I'm sure Dumbledore knows what he's doing," Remus said, but he didn't seem like he believed it.

"_Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."_

Sirius snorted.

"How can they celebrate when they just left Prongs' son on the doorstep?"

"Well—Voldemort was defeated," James said tightly. "They deserve to celebrate."

"_Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, __Professor McGonagall—Professor Dumbledore, sir."_

Remus looked up from the book.

"What I don't understand is this," he said. "Hagrid said that he borrowed the bike from you, Sirius, but why didn't you come with him? I mean, I'm sure you cared about Harry, so why would you just leave him with Hagrid to go to his Muggle relatives.

"I—don't know," Sirius said. "Maybe I'm out looking for the Death Eaters?"

Remus nodded, but he looked rather confused anyway. His brow furrowed in thought as he read.

_Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorbike and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night._

"_I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply._

She wasn't the only one in need of a tissue. All of the Marauders, surprisingly enough, looked as though they were about to cry. Remus' voice was tightly controlled, but he read on.

_Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street._

"Wouldn't the Muggles notice if the street just suddenly filled with light?" Peter asked.

Sirius shrugged. "Like we say, Muggles don't really notice much of anything when it comes to magic, Pete."

"They're probably sleeping," James added.

_He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four._

"_Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone._

"And with that, Harry Potter was left alone, with no one magical to take care of him, and only his Muggle relatives for company," James said bitterly. "And in the middle of the night! Couldn't Dumbledore have knocked on the door or something before they left, so he wouldn't be left alone all night?"

"Prongs," Sirius said, "I'm sure he'll be okay. You don't have to go into father mode all of a sudden."

"I am not!" James protested.

Sirius grinned. "Yeah, you are!"

Remus hurriedly interrupted the impending argument.

_A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen._

"But with James Potter's son there, astonishing things are _bound _to happen," Sirius quipped.

"They already have," Peter added.

_Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley..._

"Spoiled brat," James said darkly.

_He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter—the boy who lived!"_

"And that's the end of chapter one," Remus said, sticking a paper in the book and setting it beside him.

There were a few moments' silence.

"I can't believe this," James finally said.

"Me either," Sirius said. "On the one hand, I'm happy that Voldemort was defeated and that Harry still lives, but I'm also sad that you and Lily died, and I don't know if this is even true t all. I mean, what if it's just fake?"

"It doesn't seem fake to me," Remus said. "I mean, it mentions the magical world—and seems to be accurate—and it seems to be sent to us for a reason. After all, magic tends to happen for a reason, right?"

"Yeah, but why was it sent to us?"

Remus shrugged. "Merlin knows."

James opened his mouth to respond, but Peter beat him to it.

"Maybe it was sent to change things?" he asked.

"What do you mean, Pete?" Sirius asked in return.

"I mean that—well, magic happens for a reason," Peter said, "and we were sent this book from the future by magic, which kind of makes it seem like this book was sent for a reason. And—if it was fake, why would it be sent to us? We wouldn't have anything to change, in that case."

Remus stared at Peter. "You know, I think you might be right." Peter smiled at the praise. "Why else would we get a book like this?"

James nodded, as did Sirius.

'So what do we do now?" Peter asked.

Sirius thought for a moment, then turned to James.

"I think we should contact Lily," he said. "She might not believe us—I didn't believe it for a second when I read that you _married _Lily either—but this has something to do with her too, and she might have an idea of what to do about it."

Remus frowned. "I don't think Lily would believe you."

"We can send her the chapter we read," James said, "but put spells on it so she can only read it. And when she reads it, she has to believe it. I'll write a letter and tell her where it came from and our ideas about it."

Remus had misgivings, but he didn't have a chance to express them, because James had jumped up and run over to the mahogany desk. And even though James was still unsure of the chances of not getting hexed into next Tuesday when Lily read the letter, he had to send it.

Because he knew the book was right. It told the future, and now it _had _to be up to them to change it.

Grabbing a piece of parchment, a quill and an inkwell, he sat down on his desk and began writing the letter that would begin the slow unfurling of events that would end up changing the Marauder's future—for good.

Not that he knew it at the time, of course.

_Dear Lily_, he began...

--

**Author's Note: **Phew, can you believe I wrote all ten thousand words of this chapter in two days? I know this seems like a typical "Marauders read Harry Potter" story right now, but that's only because I'm just getting started. Next chapter, things will start changing a bit. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter, and please review, telling me what you liked/didn't like/etc.? Thanks!


	3. Chapter 2: The Vanishing Glass

**Out of Desperation**_  
by PiperPaigePhoebe01_

Chapter Two

Lily groaned and rolled over, burying her head deeper under the covers. She had been having such a wonderful dream... she didn't want to wake up... it had been a dream about Hogwarts, becoming Head Girl, when a hoot had interrupted it—

Wait.

A _hoot_?

Lily sat up, pushing the covers away from her face. Sure enough, an owl was just outside her window, a letter attached to its leg. It was an extraordinarily handsome tawny owl, dark feathers gleaming. Lily smiled at it, walked over to the window, and opened it, allowing the owl to hop inside.

The owl held out its leg and Lily untied the thick letter. Glancing at it, she saw _Lily _written in spiky letters—very familiar spiky letters. Lily wondered why Potter, of all people, was writing to her, but sat down on her swivel chair to read.

_Dear Lily,_

_Hi. How are you? I'm fine. Sirius, Remus and Peter all arrived yesterday, and they're staying for the rest of the summer. I got my Hogwarts letter a couple weeks ago, and don't even bother denying it, I know you got Head Girl. Incidentally, I know who got Head Boy as well, but you'll just have to wait to find out, because I'm not telling._

Lily made a noise of annoyance.

What a prat.

_I'm not just writing to torture you, by the way. There is a purpose to this letter, and that purpose is enclosed._

_You see, last night, I found this very interesting book on my bed. A book called Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. We decided to read it—and don't scoff, we actually do know how to read—and thought you might be interested. Now, when you read it, don't hex us, because it's not a joke. From us, at least._

_Also, mum says that you're welcome to come and stay with us for a week or so, which I think you might want to do after reading the first chapter._

_-James_

Lily let out a laugh. Why would she _ever _want to stay with the _Potters _for a week? Honestly, she might be friends—acquaintances—with the Marauders, but she would sooner tear her hair out than stay for any amount of time with the Potters.

He had piqued her curiosity, however, so she took out the thick sheets of parchment. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the note that was scrawled at the very top of the page.

_Don't let anyone else read this. We put spells on it to make sure only you can read it, but just to be safe. James._

"Okay, it's official," Lily muttered, staring at the title of the book. "Potter has gone off the deep end."

As she started reading, her disbelief grew, but nothing could have prepared her for the shock she received when she saw "Lily and James Potter" on the page for the first time. She blinked once and reread the sentence. And then blinked again and reread it again.

Following that, she stopped reading. Fury mingled with disbelief.

"What an _idiot_!" Lily stormed. "Like I would _ever _believe this tripe!"

She was of half a mind to Floo over to Potter's house and give him a piece of her mind, but stifled that urge. Instead, she swiveled her chair back over to her desk, grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill, and began to write.

_Potter,_

_What in Merlin's name are you playing at? If this is some sort of sick joke to get me to go out with you, it's not working. You are such an idiot. Now, tell me what this is really about or I'll hex you into next year!_

_Lily._

Lily folded the letter. The owl was still there, so Lily tied it to the owl's leg. And, just like that, it flew off, leaving Lily alone to reflect on Potter's idiocy.

* * *

Just as Lily had finished reflecting on Potter's idiocy and went down to fix herself some breakfast, James Potter stretched and yawned. He stared at the ceiling, thinking. Was there something he was forgetting?

Ah, yes.

He stared at the book on his nightstand. He had wanted to learn more about his son, but Remus had said that they should wait until Lily was there to continue reading. They had all agreed, but James was reluctant.

He wanted to know more about his son. He wanted to know how he had defeated Voldemort, and how Lily's relatives were treating him. He wondered where his best friends were, where his parents were, and why they weren't taking care of Harry.

And yet he wanted to know more than that.

He thought that the book was from the future, but how could he be so sure? It was suspicious, a book just appearing like that, out of nowhere, in his bedroom and without any prior warning. Could it be a prank?

No. It couldn't.

Even if there was someone who could play a prank on the infamous Marauders—which there wasn't—the book seemed too real—too _dark—_to be anything but the truth. Sure, at the beginning, it was funny—a way for the Marauders to snark at _something—_but... now, it was too involving, too much like the _truth._

James sighed and rolled over. It was too early to be awake, and yet he couldn't get back to sleep. His eyes were glued to the book on his nightstand.

If this book did tell of his son—

James was going to marry Lily.

The thought brought a smile to his face. Maybe—just maybe—this book would be enough to bring them together.

James stretched and closed his eyes.

He hoped so.

* * *

A few hours later, while James was shoveling bacon and eggs into his mouth at a record pace, his owl swooped through the open window. James untied Lily's response and read it; he had expected a response like the one she had given.

"What'd she say?" Sirius asked, though the words ended up coming out rather thickly due to the fact that he had just bitten into a piece of thick buttered toast.

"Just the usual," James said, folding the letter and putting it beside his plate. "She didn't believe it, of course, thought it was a prank, called me an idiot, and threatened to hex me into next year."

Remus nodded. "I knew it."

"How're you going to get her to believe you?" Peter inquired squeakily.

"I dunno."

"Well, at least you can prove it's not a prank," Remus said. "Now, at least. No one would think of pulling a prank like this."

"There are some Truth-Revealing spells," Sirius said. "They're not as strong as Veritaserum, but they can give you a pretty good idea about whether or not something is telling the truth or not. It's used for ancient scrolls and such, by wizarding archaeologists."

Remus glanced at Sirius. "How do you know that?" he asked.

"My parents," Sirius said, and his expression clouded. Ever since he had run away from the Blacks a year ago, any mention of his family made him look like he wanted to punch something. "They had a cousin who was a wizarding archaeologist, they learned a lot about those sort of spells from him, and I—well, I eavesdropped."

James grinned. "Of course."

"Can you perform the spells?" Peter asked.

"Probably," Sirius said. "Evans probably knows them too; she'll be able to perform them."

"Only one problem, Padfoot," Remus said. "There's no way Lily will come here. She's probably fuming right now."

"Yeah," James agreed.

A smile spread across Sirius' face. James, having known Sirius for six years, knew he was up to something—and so did Remus and Peter. Remus shot a curious, yet worried, look in Sirius' direction.

"What have you planned?" Remus asked suspiciously.

"Well, Lily won't come here out of her own free will, right?" Sirius asked. James nodded, feeling rather suspicious. "So... if she's not willing to come here, and you're willing to go over there..."

James' eyes widened, but didn't get a chance to speak before Remus beat him to it.

"You are an idiot, Padfoot," he said. "Do you know what Lily would do if we suddenly just appeared in her house?"

"Hex us, of course," Sirius said. "And _then _demand to know what we were doing there, which gives James a chance to win her over by an _enthralling _tale of how he is on a quest to save his son from an orphan's life and prove that the book is true at the same time."

Remus rolled his eyes. "That is the most ridiculous plan I've ever heard."

"But we need Lily," James pointed out. "How are we going to change things without her?"

"And she has to perform the spells," Peter added.

"And if Lily performs the spells, she can't claim that we were somehow skewing the result," Sirius added.

"We couldn't do that, anyway, Padfoot," Remus said.

"Yeah, but Evans might insist on believing we did anyway," Sirius said. He bit into the last piece of bacon on his plate, swallowed, and continued. "This way, she'll know we're telling the truth."

"We don't even know the book is telling the truth," Remus said.

James laughed. "Come on, Moony," he said. "You thought it was last night."

"I still do," Remus insisted. "I just don't think this is a good idea."

"Too bad," Sirius said. "Let's go now!"

He stood up. James followed suit, even though he knew that Lily would probably kill him when he showed up in her house. He had to do this, he had to know for sure if it was true. He could perform the spells, of course, but Lily was better at Charms.

_And besides, you just want to see her again_, a little voice whispered in his head, and he didn't bother denying it.

"Think we'd better Apparate?" James asked. "It'd be easier than using Floo powder and, besides, I don't even know if Lily's house is connected to the Floo."

"If you're insisting on doing this," Remus said, resigned, as he followed them out of the kitchen, "you'd better Apparate."

"All right, then." He looked around at his three friends. "Sirius, Remus, you can Apparate on your own, but Peter, you're going to have to Side-Along Apparate with one of us."

"He can Side-Along with me," Sirius said.

James nodded. "Good. I'll just go up and get the book then?"

And without even waiting for a response, he bounded up the staircase and back into his room. The book was exactly where he left it; James picked it up and bounded back down the stairs again.

"Got it," he said, rather unnecessarily, since the book was in plain sight. "Anyway, let's go."

The four Marauders stomped out of the house and toward the Apparating point, just on the outside of the small forest that concealed James' house from the prying eyes of Muggles. The Apparating point wasn't that big—if you weren't looking for it, it would be nearly invisible—but it was big enough for all four Marauders to stand comfortably.

Normally, the Apparating point surrounded the house, but with the war going on, James' parents had thought it would be safer if the point of Apparation was smaller. That way, there was less chance of an attack.

James grinned at his three friends, turned on his heel, and Disapparated. He appeared a moment later in front of a white house with brown shutters. He glanced around, but no one noticed his appearing out of thin air, and a moment later, Sirius, Remus and Peter appeared next to him.

"Right, then," he said. He ruffled his hair once, making it stand up on end, and made his way up the drive to the door.

He knocked once. The door immediately flew open, revealing a tall, willowy sort of woman with short, cropped red hair and kind hazel eyes. A streak of silver at the temple betrayed her age, but she smiled happily at the sight of them.

"Well, what a surprise," she said. "What can I do for you boys?"

"Is Lily here?" James asked.

"Yes, she is," Mrs. Evans said. "Who's asking?"

"James Potter," James proclaimed.

"And Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew," Sirius added.

To James' surprise, Mrs. Evans giggled like a little girl. "Oh!" she said. "Well, I'll go call her, then!"

She bustled off, but James could still see her, standing at the bottom of the stairs. She called Lily's name, who quickly appeared at the top of the stairs, red hair tied up away from her face by a green ribbon. She walked down the stairs and over to the door, her expression hardening as she saw who it was.

"Oh," she said darkly. "It's you. What do you want?"

"Why, Lily-bean," Sirius said, throwing his arm around Lily and steering her inside the house. "Aren't you so happy to see us?"

Lily gave a noise of disgust and ducked out of Sirius' reach. "Black, if you won't tell me why you're here, I'll hex you," she said.

Mrs. Evans laughed, apparently used to her daughter's fits of temper by now. "Okay, I think I'd better leave you alone. Tell me if you need anything, all right? Crisps, biscuits, anything." And she walked out of the room.

James, Remus and Peter entered the house, shutting the door behind them. James took over the conversation.

"I take it you've read the first chapter of the book," he said.

Lily turned and glared at James. "Yes," she said, "and I wonder why you didn't just _answer _my owl, instead of bursting into my house."

"Aw, there's no fun in that," Sirius responded.

"Fun? _Fun_?" Lily looked as though she were about to explode. "You are all insufferable. This is some silly joke—and you know what? I'm not buying it!"

"But it's not a joke!" Peter said, then swallowed thickly as Lily's glare was directed toward him.

"Or at least we think it might not be," Remus said hurriedly. "You see, Sirius knows of this spell that will be able to show us whether or not the book is true or not, and—"

Lily laughed. "_Sirius_ knows of a spell? Like I'd trust him."

"_And_," Remus said, as though he hadn't heard her, "we'd let you cast it."

"Oh?" Lily looked skeptical and as though she wanted to say something, but at that moment, Petunia entered the room. She took one look of the group of boys and Lily, then narrowed her eyes.

"These aren't more _school _friends, are they?" she asked, lip curling derisively.

"Yeah, they are, Petunia," Lily said loftily, "and excuse me, because they were just about to go up to my room. We have _spells _to practice, after all."

Petunia looked apoplectic. "But you're not of age yet!"

"That hasn't stopped me before."

With that, she flounced up the stairs, leaving no choice but for the Marauders to follow her. They entered a room James assumed to be Lily's bedroom. James saw the chapter on her desk, the last page on the top.

So she at least finished it.

Good.

"So, are you going to tell me what in Merlin's name this is all about?" Lily inquired, jabbing a finger at the parchment. "And how can you even think it's true?"

"There isn't exactly any other option," James pointed out. "We know it's not a prank and—"

"So?" Lily asked. "We're in the middle of a _war_! This could be something to lure us out or something!"

"I think Voldemort has more on his mind than killing pranksters," James pointed out, ignoring Peter's flinch.

"But you don't know, do you?"

"_Guys_," Remus broke in. "There's only one way to stop this row. Lily, I know you don't want to believe us, but all the facts point to this book being the truth. I don't know how it got here, or what exactly we're supposed to do with this knowledge, but I know that we have to do something."

"If it's fact," Lily said in a tone of voice that proclaimed plainly that she strongly doubted it.

"Yes, if it's fact," Remus said. "Now, Sirius was going to tell you how to perform the spell, but since you're not yet of age—"

"I can still do it," Lily said. "Professor Dumbledore gave me permission, because I'm Head Girl, and we are in the middle of a war."

Peter squeaked, "So you're going to do it?"

Lily grimaced. "Unfortunately." Her expression hardened and she looked—more like glared—at James. "Don't think for one second that I believe that I would ever marry such an arrogant toerag like you, Potter."

"Good," Sirius said. "I think I remember how to do this."

"You _think_?"

Sirius laughed. "Come on, Lils, don't get your knickers in a twist." He didn't allow Lily to protest against the nickname before addressing James. "All right, bang the book right there." He pointed at the desk.

James placed the book on the desk, and Lily got out her wand. Sirius quickly ran through the spell and its wand motions, before letting Lily try it on her own. He warned her that it might be tricky, but Lily scoffed.

"I'm not the best in my year at Charms for nothing," she huffed. "_Ostendo!_"

She tapped her wand once on the book and it began to glow. Once more, and it began to shudder slightly.

"_Veritas_," she said, and moved her wand in a complicated series of swishing and flicking. The room began to hum, almost as if it possessed some sort of energy. Lily placed the tip of her wand on the book and combined the two spells: "_Ostendo veritas_!"

Her wand rose seemingly of its own accord, spelling out one five-letter word.

_Truth._

Lily froze and let her wand fall to her side. The spell was broken, but the word—_Truth—_hovered in the air.

"I knew it," James breathed.

Even though he had known that the book being true was the only conceivable option, seeing the word form in front of his very eyes, _knowing _that it was the truth, took him by surprise. He tried not to let it show, but he knew that he wouldn't be out of place if he did.

Lily didn't even bother trying to hide her surprise. The grip she had on her wand was loose, and she looked as though she was going to let go at any moment. Sirius gaped, an odd mixture of surprise and sadness in his face. Remus kept his mouth firmly shut, but there was something visibly going on inside his brain. Peter simply looked dumbstruck.

"It's—it's true?" he squeaked.

"It has to be," Remus whispered.

"I can't believe it," Sirius said. "I thought, but—"

Lily sat down abruptly on her swivel chair. She let her wand fall to the ground, and the word "Truth" slowly faded away. James still felt like it was there, though, hovering over the book, imprinting itself in James' mind. He could still see it.

It seemed as though everyone was speechless.

"There's one mystery solved," Remus said after a few moments. "But now I have a thousand more."

"Like 'Where did it come from?'" Peter supplied.

"Well, it obviously came from the future," James said. "But who would send it?"

"Maybe one of us did without meaning to?"

"Wait," Lily finally said. She looked up at them, eyes sparking dangerously. "Do you guys seriously believe that I marry this cocky bastard?"

"It seems so," Remus said lightly.

"Then I have another question," Lily said, standing up. She was stiff, and her eyes were cold as she surveyed James. "What the hell did you put in my pumpkin juice to make me ever think of even dating you, let alone _marry _you?"

James winced. "Nothing?"

"Lily," Remus said. "I think you'd better calm down. We don't know what happens in the future—or at least not too much of it yet, anyway—and you've been getting on with James lately, so maybe—"

"Don't say it," Lily said harshly. "Don't say that 'things change,' because there is not a power on this Earth that will make me want to date an arrogant toerag like James Potter."

James winced. "Now, Lily—"

"But if the book's true, then doesn't that mean _everything _is true?" Peter asked. "In that case, you do marry James."

Lily snorted. "Sure."

"Maybe we should read more before—before coming to conclusions?" Sirius asked, for once acting the mediator. "Evans, just calm down. Maybe the book will have more answers."

Lily glared at Sirius.

"It better."

She didn't say anything more. She simply stormed out and down the stairs, leaving the Marauders alone.

Peter stared at his friends.

"What just happened?" he asked.

"I think Evans isn't taking too kindly to the idea that she marries you, Prongs," Sirius said. "Or to the idea that she apparently has a son with you—not that I like the idea either. To think of our Prongsie procreating!" He shuddered.

James rolled his eyes. "Well, maybe, but she knows she does. The book says she does, doesn't it?"

"It does," Remus said, "but it has to be a shock for her, don't you think?"

"How?"

"Well, think about it," Remus said logically. "She read a book that claims to be from the future, a book that says she's married to _you_, the most self-centered prat—her words, not mine—to ever exist, and has a _son _with you. And not only that, she finds out that she's dead by the hands of Voldemort." He ignored Peter's flinch. "And she learns that the book is apparently completely true. How do you think _you'd _feel?"

"When you put it that way—"

"When you put it that way," Lily said, returning. "I'd feel confused and angry and like I'm _completely _losing my mind."

She pushed past James and pulled her trunk over to the middle of the room. Sitting back on her heels, she grabbed her wand and flicked her trunk open. She muttered a few spells, and her books, robes, money bag, and numerous other items flew into her trunk and neatly folded themselves.

"Erm, Lily?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

Lily huffed, blowing a piece of hair from her eyes. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Packing?"

"Oh, very good," Lily said sarcastically. "Fifty points to Gryffindor."

"Yes, but why are you packing?"

Lily huffed again. She Summoned the last few items she'd need and closed her trunk, then stood up and faced the Marauders.

"Do you think I'm going to just let you read the rest of the book without me?" she asked. "Especially now that we've found out it's true? If you do, you're much thicker than I thought."

"You're coming back with us?" James asked. "To my house?"

Lily made a face. "Unfortunately."

"All right, Evans!"

"Shut it, Sirius."

"Your parents said it's okay?" Remus asked curiously.

"Yeah," Lily said. "I was going to go to Alice's for the last couple weeks, but she'll understand. I just asked my mum if I could come with you idiots instead, and she agreed. Tuney's been having a cow over my being here for her engagement dinner anyway."

James exchanged a look with Sirius. So Petunia was getting married to that Dursley so soon, was she?

"All right." He nodded. "Are we going now, then?"

"Yeah," Lily said, but looked as though she wanted nothing more than to kick them out of her house and not see them until September 1. She tapped her wand, shrunk her trunk and put a Weightlessness Charm on it, and then stowed it in her pocket.

"You can Apparate, right?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Of course."

"Either way," James said, butting in. "I think it would be better if you Side-Alonged with me, because you don't know where the Apparation point is, and I wouldn't want you to get Splinched." He gave what he thought was a winning smile, but Lily merely rolled her eyes.

"Fine."

She took his arm and they Disapparated, the rest of the Marauders a mere step behind them.

* * *

Two hours later, the Marauders and Lily were sitting in a circle in James' room, a pile of sweets (Chocolate Frogs, Cauldron Cakes, Bertie Bott's, several chilled bottles of butterbeer and even a covered pan that looked like it contained some sort of pie) in the middle. Lily had the book in her hands and was staring at it.

Strangely enough, it was warm, probably from the residual effects of the spell, and seemed to vibrate slightly as she held it. The boy on the cover _did _look a lot like James, she thought, messy black hair and all.

Yet she couldn't believe it was true.

She knew she had to—the spell said it was, and Lily trusted the truth of spells explicitly—it took a lot of power to turn a spell awry—but still, that didn't mean like she had to like it. She glared at the book.

"Stupid," she muttered.

"What's stupid?" Remus asked.

"This," she said, and didn't elaborate. She stared around the circle, deliberately not meeting James' gaze—_god, I bet this book has given him __such__ an ego boost—_and decided enough was enough. "So. Are we going to read this or not?"

Peter gave her a tentative smile. "Go ahead."

"Yeah," Sirius said. "We're all waiting for you, Evans."

Lily had to stop her hands from trembling before opening the book to the page Remus had placed the piece of paper in the previous night. Clearing her throat, she began.

_Chapter Two_

_The Vanishing Glass_

"Weird," Sirius said. "I wonder what that means."

"Harry probably performed accidental magic," Remus said calmly.

_Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all._ _The sun rose on the same tidy front garden and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls._

"You wouldn't have thought a news report about owls would be fateful, would you," James said.

"It wasn't, really," Remus said. "It just signified that something important was going to happen."

_Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets—but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too._

James had looked like he was going to comment snarkily about the photographs, but he instead got a hard expression on his face.

"What did the Dursleys do to Harry?" he asked.

Lily huffed. "Are you going to let me read and tell you, or are you just going to keep interrupting?"

"We're going to keep interrupting," James replied.

Lily sighed. She didn't know what had possessed her to come here—except for a curiosity that seemed to come out of nowhere. She resigned herself to interruptions—snarky ones too, because that seemed to be the way the Marauders expressed their thoughts the best, even if the situation was serious—and continued to read.

_Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day._

Lily winced. Petunia's voice _was _shrill; she didn't know how many times she had been woken by the sound of Tuney screaming about one thing or another. More times than she could count, to be sure.

"_Up! Get up! Now!"_

"How rude," Remus remarked.

_Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again._

"_Up!" she screeched._

"I don't think Petunia likes Harry much," Peter remarked.

"Of course she doesn't," Lily snapped. "She hates me, so she'd obviously hate my son as well."

Lily pointedly refused to call Harry "_our _son," as in her and James' son. She still didn't believe it, and it would take a lot more than a book to convince her of the idea that James actually could change.

_Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorbike in it._

"He can remember that?" Sirius asked.

"Apparently," James said.

"Wow."

_He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before._

"And not only had the same dream," James said, grinning, "but lived it."

_His aunt was back outside the door._

"_Are you up yet?" she demanded._

"_Nearly," said Harry._

Peter let out a little laugh. James shot him a curious look.

"I just think it's funny," he said. "That your son's first word is 'nearly.' It's just the first thing we've heard. I thought it might have been something more... interesting."

James shrugged. "I'm sure he'll be more interesting later."

"_Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."_

Sirius snorted into his bottle of butterbeer. "_Duddy?_"

James snickered.

_Harry groaned._

"I'd groan too," James said.

"_What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door._

"_Nothing, nothing..." _

_Dudley's birthday—how could he have forgotten?_

"Because Dudley's stupid?" James asked. "And his birthday's not worth remembering?"

_Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept._

Lily stopped reading.

"You—you can't be serious." She stared at the book again. "My sister can't possibly allow my son to sleep _under the stairs._"

"Well, the book doesn't lie," Peter said.

Lily glared at it. "Stupid, stupid, _stupid..._"

On the other side of the circle, James was whispering quietly and quickly under his breath and, if what Lily was hearing was any indication, he was not saying anything suitable for a child's ears. Or really, for anyone who was under the age of thirteen.

"Shut up, Potter, and let me continue."

_When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike._

"What's a computer?" James asked. "And a television?"

Lily tutted. "Honestly, Potter, you should have taken Muggle studies," she said, but answered regardless. "A computer is a sort of machine used for making calculations and recording things—like a better version of a Self-Calculating Arithmaquill, or an Autowrite Quill—and a television is a sort of metal box where you watch moving pictures. Sort of like portraits, except they tell a story."

James still looked confused, but he nodded anyway. Lily was glad she didn't have to answer another of his questions.

_Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise—unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley's favorite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast._

"That's good," Remus reflected. "He must've inherited your speed, Prongs."

Lily looked curious. "Prongs?"

James stiffened and stared guiltily at Lily. "Nothing, nothing," he said hastily. "Just a nickname."

Lily didn't believe it for a second, but let it slide. Those nicknames, though—they had been referring to themselves by those names ever since their fifth year at Hogwarts, but they never explained why.

There was something odd there, but—

She shrugged. No use thinking about it now, because they weren't about to tell her.

"I can't believe the Dursleys let Dudley beat Harry up," Sirius said darkly.

"I can," Lily said. "They probably don't know, or if they do, they don't care. My sister and her boyfriend aren't exactly the nicest."

"We gathered."

_Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was._

"That's not fair," James muttered.

_Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes._

"Your eyes, Evans," Sirius noted. "And James' hair. If you needed any more proof, there it is. A perfect combination."

Lily glared at him. "Please don't remind me of the momentary lapse of sanity I must suffer in the future in order to marry such a git."

"Oh, come on, Lily," James said. "I've changed."

Lily laughed. "You don't hex Snape—" without meaning to, her throat tightened at the mention of her old friend—"but that doesn't mean you're not as much of a toerag as you were before, Potter."

"Yeah, it does," James said.

"No, it really doesn't," Lily said dryly, and looked back down at the book.

_He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose._

Sirius winced. "That _hurts._"

"How would you know?" Remus asked.

"Long story."

_The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it._

"_In the car crash when your parents died," she had said._

"Car crash?" Peter said. "But you didn't die in a car crash."

"That little—" James stopped himself from swearing. "I thought she was supposed to tell Harry when he was old enough!"

"I'm not surprised she didn't," Lily said. "She probably thinks she can stop him being a wizard if she just doesn't tell him so. Or if she keeps him miserable."

"That's a surefire way to make sure he _is _a wizard," Remus noted.

"_And don't ask questions."_

"That's like asking him not to breathe," Lily said. "Of course he's going to ask questions!"

_**Don't ask questions—**that was the first rule for a quiet life at the Dursleys._

"He must not have a quiet life, then."

"Of course he doesn't! He's a Potter!"

Lily rolled her eyes and threw a bit of Chocolate Frog in James' direction. He caught it easily and popped it inside his mouth.

"Oh, _honestly. _Men are such pigs..."

_Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon._

"_Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting._

"That won't do anything," James said automatically.

_About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut._

"Hey, your mum does that all the time, James," Sirius said. "Except she's nice about it."

James scowled. "That's what you think."

Without realizing it, he brought a hand up and ran it through his hair, making it stand on end. Lily glared at James for a moment—of course he'd never grow out of that—but sighed and averted her eyes.

_Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way—all over the place._

"Just like James."

_Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blonde hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head._

A collective shudder ran through the room.

"Ew," Peter summed up. "What a pig."

"I bet Tuney dotes on him," Lily muttered.

And sure enough—

_Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel—Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig._

Everyone snickered.

"Pig—in—a—wig," Sirius choked out. "_Classic_!"

_Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell._

"_Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."_

"Thirty-six presents?" James said in disbelief. "I don't even get that many presents for my birthday, and my mum and dad practically smother me!"

"And he had thirty-eight last year," Sirius said, looking equally disgusted.

"I'm beginning to hate these Dursleys," Peter muttered.

"Beginning to? I already do," Lily muttered.

Even though it was ridiculous to feel maternal toward a son she wouldn't have for Merlin knows how many years and a son she didn't even want in the _first _place, especially not with the father, she felt like hexing her sister for doing what she did to her son. How dare he make him sleep in the cupboard while Dudley got more than thirty presents each year?

She shook her head, trying to rid herself of those thoughts. _Get it together, Evans._

"_Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy._"

Lily let out a soft hiss at the mention of Marge. Marge, Vernon's sister, had never liked Lily, and the dislike was certainly mutual. If Vernon was dull as drills, Marge was as pigheaded as... well, pigs, and too dedicated to her stupid dogs for her own good. Lily couldn't recall the amount of times she wanted to explode the wine glass she held in her grubby, stubby hands. The only thing that stopped her was the fact that she couldn't use magic outside of school... not that she had that excuse anymore.

A grin worked itself across her face.

"_All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face. Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over._

Lily's smile disappeared.

_Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another **two **presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? **Two **more presents. Is that all right?"_

Lily scowled.

_Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work._

The Marauders snickered.

"Of course it is," Sirius said, "with that great lump as a father."

_Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty... thirty..."_

"_Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia._

"Oh, honestly!" Lily said. "How can a boy be eleven years old and not know how to do maths? Do they have no idea how to raise a child?"

"Yeah," Sirius said immediately.

"_Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."_

_Uncle Vernon chuckled._

"_Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair._

They all looked disgusted.

"They treat him like he's like royalty," Sirius muttered. "I'd say they're worse than my parents with ol' Reggie, but that's a lie."

"They're still horrible," Remus said.

"Well, how could they not be?" Lily asked. "We're talking about my sister and her boyfriend, whose greatest ambition in life is to be the owner of Grunnings, a drill company."

They all snorted.

_At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR._

James and Sirius looked exceedingly confused.

"What are all those Muggle things?" he asked.

"Very expensive," Lily said curtly, and wouldn't say anything more. She did not feel like explaining anything more about the Muggle world—mostly because she thought she would start screaming if she did.

If she couldn't stand her sister before, she certainly couldn't stand her now. She fought to keep her distaste out of her voice.

_He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried._

"Oh no," Lily muttered.

"_Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction._

"Who is Mrs. Figg?" Remus asked.

"I don't know," Lily said. "I've never heard of her before."

"Maybe she's a witch, then!" Sirius said hopefully. "And she can tell Harry all about magic!"

_Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies._

"What are—?"

"It doesn't matter."

_Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned._

James' hands clenched into fists.

"I guess that means she's not a witch then," Sirius said, looking rather crestfallen. "I can't believe the Dursleys."

Lily couldn't either. She knew that they hated her—for no other reason than she was magical—but did that mean that she had to hold a grudge over her son for no separate reason? Apparently so.

To think she even _had _a son. The idea was still taking some getting used to, but she felt maternal, more maternal than she ever expected to. She still couldn't quite believe it, but she knew she must. It was true, after all.

"_Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd planned this._

"Stupid woman," Lily muttered.

_Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again._

Peter snickered. "Those are the most ridiculous cat names ever."

"_We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested._

"Oh, no, you can't!" Lily snapped, surprising both herself and the Marauders. She took a bite of a Cauldron Cake to calm herself, then started reading again.

"_Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy._"

"Why?" James asked.

"Because she hates me too," Lily said. "She doesn't know the whole story, but she considers me a 'bad egg,' because I was never around, and Petunia spoke dreadfully of me. Not that it matters, because I hate her too."

James looked mildly shocked at Lily's venomous tones, but wisely chose not to say anything.

_The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn't there—or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug._

"Bastards," Sirius muttered.

"_What about what's-her-name, your friend—Yvonne?_"

"I remember her," Lily said. "She was my age, I think, and became friends with Petunia after I left to go to Hogwarts. They've been friends ever since."

There were so many things she knew about in this book... like Petunia and Vernon's relationship... Marge... Yvonne... and so many things she felt. She almost felt like she was going to explode from the pressure.

"_On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia._

"_You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully (he'd be able to watch what he wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer)._

_Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon._

"I bet she always looks like that," Peter piped in.

Lily snorted. "Yeah, she does."

Suddenly, she felt better. There was no use panicking or worrying or even thinking about the future right now. She just needed to relax. They were only two chapters in and she was already panicking, but it wasn't necessary.

Not yet.

_''And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled._

"He's not going to blow up the house!'' James yelled at the book.

"_I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening._

They all turned to James.

Sirius grinned. "Like father, like son, eh?"

"No, I'd really blow up the house," James joked.

The Marauders laughed, and even Lily couldn't help a tiny giggle that escaped her lips. James looked approvingly at her, one of those extraordinarily cocky grins on his face. Lily huffed.

"_I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "...and leave him in the car..."_

"_That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone..."_

"It's not like he's going to get it into an accident," Remus said.

"They make it sound like he's some sort of dangerous criminal," Sirius said, looking rather angry.

_Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying—it had been years since he'd really cried—but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted._

"For heaven's sake!" Lily said. "I've never seen a boy as spoiled as Dudley! I think I'm going to have a word with my sister when I talk to her next..."

"You could send her an owl," Sirius suggested innocently.

Lily sniggered. "Yeah, and she'd kill me."

"Like she could," James teased.

"You'd be surprised at what Tuney's like when she's in one of her moods," Lily said.

"Really?"

Lily nodded distractedly as she found her place in the book. She glanced at the next words, then looked back up at the Marauders. A smile twitched her lips and she fought down the urge to laugh.

"Okay. Promise me you won't laugh at the next lines."

The Marauders shot looks at each other. "We can't promise that."

Lily stared hard at James.

"All right, we promise!"

Except he didn't look honest.

"_Dinky Duddydums—_"

It was an instant reaction. The Marauders immediately began laughing, James and Sirius the loudest among them all. Even Lily couldn't stop herself from giggling, and it took ages for her to stop once she started.

"A-all right," Peter wheezed. "C-continue."

Lily didn't risk saying the nickname again. She did smile at her sister—who knew she could be so ridiculous when it came to her son?

"—_don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him._

"_I... don't... want... him... t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge pretend sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms._

"Brat," James muttered.

_Just then, the doorbell rang—"Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically—and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat._

"I resent that statement!" Peter said indignantly.

Lily looked at Peter curiously. "Why?"

"Oh, no—no reason," Peter said quickly. Lily, however, resolved to keep an eye on him; he looked oddly nervous. Come to think of it, so did the other Marauders, but at least they tried to keep themselves together.

_He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them._

"Pleasant," James muttered.

"That's rich," Lily said before she could stop herself. "You did something of the sort when you were eleven!"

James looked personally affronted. "I did not!" he protested. "Sure, I might've hexed them... and insulted them... and done _other _things... but I don't hit people, or hold people's arms behind their backs while others hit them..."

"Potter, hexing is _just _as bad!" Lily replied.

"But I haven't hexed anyone in ages!"

"Really?" Lily said heatedly. "What about that Slytherin kid?"

James looked as if the answer was obvious. "He's a _Slytherin_!" he said, as though that should answer the question.

"So? Not all Slytherins are bad!"

"You said that about Snape too!"

James immediately looked as though he might like to take the statement back at the look on Lily's face, but Lily turned stony and didn't say anything. James opened his mouth to try and apologize, but Remus jumped in.

"All right, stop arguing," he said. "This isn't the time."

Lily huffed. How _dare _he? She had resigned herself to the fact that her friendship with Snape was a mistake—his continued friendship with Mulciber and Avery was proof enough of that—but that didn't mean she didn't regret it sometimes.

She shook her head and picked the book back up again.

_Dudley stopped crying at once._

"Of course," Sirius said lightly. "He'd want to save face."

The atmosphere was tense, and Lily moved slightly away from the circle. Honestly, James disgusted her sometimes... She shifted to make herself comfortable, reclining against James' bed with a sigh.

_Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn't believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursleys' car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life._

"What's a zoo?" Sirius asked.

"It's a building where Muggles keep animals," Remus responded so Lily wouldn't have to. "Muggles go there to see rare animals they wouldn't see otherwise, like bears and lions."

"There are magical ones too," Peter added. "In America."

Sirius shrugged. "Weird."

_His aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside._

"_I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's, "I'm warning you now, boy—any funny business, anything at all—and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."_

"He's not about to do anything," James said.

"Not on purpose, anyway," Sirius said, eyes glinting. "But that doesn't mean he can't do something by _accident..._"

"_I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly..."_

_But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No one ever did._

_The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry and it was just no good telling the Dursleys he didn't make them happen._

"But he didn't make them happen," Remus said. "Or he did, but he couldn't help it."

"Yes, and my sister knows that perfectly well," Lily said. "But she's not about to tell Harry that. She'd sooner lock him in the cupboard for a year than tell him he's a wizard."

"She better not do that!" Sirius said.

"Oh, she'd do it in an instant," Lily responded. "I hope Harry doesn't get into any trouble."

_Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking like he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left "to hide that horrible scar."_

"He can't help it," James said. "I bet his hair just grows back just as soon as it gets cut!"

"And he can't help his scar," Peter added.

_Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses. Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off._

James grinned. "I knew it! We Potters love our hair."

"You love your hair looking like it could hold several birds?" Lily asked under her breath, but James still heard her.

"Come on, Lily," he said. "You know you love it."

Lily raised her eyebrow. "I know nothing of the sort."

_He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he **couldn't **explain how it had grown back so quickly._

"He should already know," Lily said. "He's a wizard, and he should have been told by Petunia _ages _ago."

"But he should've been able to figure it out ages ago too," Remus said.

"But Muggles don't notice things like that," Lily said. "If magical things happen around them, they just pass it off as coincidence, or hallucinations, or something like that. Harry probably thinks something's going on, but honestly, who would guess you were actually a wizard if you lived with the worst sort of Muggles imaginable?"

Lily looked around at the Marauders, but none of them had an answer—because they knew she was right. Somehow, Lily got the feeling that she would be setting the Marauders straight numerous times during this book.

"You're right," James said. "They should have told him."

"But they didn't," Lily muttered darkly.

"He'll find out soon," Peter said.

"Yeah! He'll be getting his Hogwarts letter soon, won't he?"

_Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls)._

"Ew," Sirius said.

"That sweater is revolting," Peter said. "My mum had one like that once."

Wisely, Lily and the rest of the Marauders chose not to say anything.

_The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Harry. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Harry wasn't punished._

"Good."

"They should come up with explanations like that all the time," James said. "Then Harry wouldn't get in trouble so often."

"But they love getting Harry in trouble," Remus pointed out.

"They shouldn't," James said flatly.

_On the other hand, he'd gotten in terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens._

"How on Earth did he get on the roof?" Lily inquired.

James shrugged. "Accidental magic works that way. Sometimes you can do things when you're young that you can't do otherwise. Like you'd need a Hovering Charm to do that, or be able to Apparate."

_Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual when, as much to Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney._

James and Sirius couldn't help it; they started laughing. Lily shot a sharp look in their direction, and Sirius grinned.

"Come on, Evans," he said. "You have to admit, that would be funny to see."

Lily privately agreed, but glared at James and Sirius all the same. "Not if it means Harry's gotten himself in trouble."

_The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Harry's headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all he'd tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed the wind must have caught him in mid-jump._

"That's not a very good explanation," Remus said.

"'Course it's not."

_But today, nothing was going to go wrong._

"How much do you want to bet something _will _go wrong?" Sirius asked.

"James' broomstick," Remus said.

"Hey!"

_It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, his cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room._

_While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank, and Harry were just a few of his favorite subjects._

"He certainly likes complaining about Harry," Remus said.

"Did you expect anything different?" Lily asked.

"No."

"Neither did I."

_This morning, it was motorbikes._

"How can you complain about motorbikes?" Sirius asked, looking shocked. "They have to be the best Muggle way of travel ever invented!"

"You'd be surprised," Peter said. "Lots of people are irresponsible with them."

Lily shot a look at Sirius. "Like Sirius?"

"Yes, like Sirius!"

"I haven't got a motorbike yet!" Sirius protested. "How can I be irresponsible with it?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "You make it _fly._"

"That's not irresponsible!"

"It is when you're involved," Remus said calmly. "Whenever you get that motorbike, make sure I'm nowhere near you, all right? I don't want to know what you'd do with a flying motorbike."

Sirius opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and finally shut it once more. He glanced at James, and Lily could see the plans forming in their minds. Lily hurriedly continued before they got too far in their planning.

"..._roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorbike overtook them._

"_I had a dream about a motorbike," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."_

Lily winced.

"You shouldn't've said that," James muttered, as if Harry could hear him.

_Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: "MOTORBIKES DON'T FLY!"_

_Dudley and Piers snickered._

"Prats."

"_I know they don't," said Harry. "It was only a dream."_

"Except it wasn't."

Lily shot a look at Sirius.

"What? It wasn't!"

_But he wished he hadn't said anything. If there was one thing the Dursleys hated even more than his asking questions, it was his talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was in a dream or even a cartoon—they seemed to think he might get dangerous ideas._

Lily felt fury rise up inside her, but she bit her tongue to keep it from escaping. So her son wasn't allowed to even be a kid, was he? He had to keep himself from mentioning anything _magical_, for fear of—what? That he'd turn them into toads?

Lily's hands clenched around the book in a grip even tighter than before.

_It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry what he wanted before they could hurry him away, they bought him a cheap lemon ice pop._

"At least they got him something," Peter said brightly.

_It wasn't bad, either, Harry thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond._

The Marauders snickered.

_Harry had the best morning he'd had in a long time. He was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting him._

"Well, that answers that question," Sirius muttered. "The Dursleys know about Dudley beating Harry up, but they don't care."

"I told you," Lily said, but she was angry herself. It was only the thought that she couldn't exactly hex someone about something that hadn't even happened yet that prevented her from going back home and giving Petunia a piece of her mind.

_They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Harry was allowed to finish the first._

"That's oddly nice of them," Remus noted.

"They probably just don't want to waste their money," James responded.

_Harry felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last._

They exchanged looks.

"I knew something was going to happen," James said.

"Yeah, we all did," Peter said.

_After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone._

Lily shuddered. "I hate snakes."

"Aha!" Sirius quipped. "Finally you admit nothing good can come out of those things!"

"I don't mean _Slytherin_," Lily grumbled. "I only meant that I don't like the look of _actual _snakes."

Sirius opened his mouth to respond, but Lily talked over him.

_Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can—but at the moment it didn't look in the mood._

"Wish it would," James muttered.

Lily rolled her eyes, but—and she would never admit this—she agreed with Potter. Judging from what she had heard of what happened to Petunia and Vernon over the next—she did some quick maths—decade and a half or so, she felt like she wouldn't mind if their car did get crushed.

At least they couldn't blame that on Harry—not that they wouldn't try—and they would get what they deserved.

_In fact, it was fast asleep._

"Well, that's boring," Peter said.

"Maybe boring's a good thing," Lily said. She had a bad feeling about this...

_Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils._

"It sounds ugly," Sirius said.

"And _big_."

Lily looked at Peter and managed a small smile in his direction. It was nice to know she wasn't the only one afraid of the snake—Peter was sitting up, eyes alert, and looked rather frightened.

"_Make it move," he whined at his father._

"Why would you want to make it _move_?" Peter asked.

_Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge._

"_Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on._

"_This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away._

_Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself—no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on their glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least he got to visit the rest of the house._

"Yeah, but I doubt the snake minds," James said. "It probably doesn't know the difference between the wild and the tank."

_The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes._

Lily would have bitten her lip if she hadn't been reading. She had a very bad feeling about this—Harry should just forget about the snake and go look at a lizard or something—

_Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's._

_**It winked.**_

Sirius, startled, looked at James.

"Why is a snake winking at your son, James?" he asked.

James shrugged, but his eyes had turned hard. "I don't know," he said, "and I'm not sure I want to know."

_Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too._

"Ooh, _bad _move," Peter moaned.

_The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly:_

"_I get that all the time."_

James jerked.

"No," he breathed.

"What?" Lily asked. "What's so bad about that?"

James stared at Lily, then jumped up. "Blimey, _Lily_!" he said, his voice unnaturally loud and yet tight, like he was holding back a certain emotion. "How—how do you not understand what this means?"

He ran a hand through his hair and began pacing.

"I don't know!" Lily said. What _did _it mean? "But maybe I'd know if you'd tell me!"

"Don't you understand?" he asked. "Harry Potter can understand _exactly _what that snake is saying!"

Lily continued to look blank. "So?"

"So he can probably talk to snakes too," James said. "That means he can speak Parseltongue—snake language."

"Is that bad?"

James let out a yelp as if he'd been burned. "Is it _bad_?" he said. "It's the worst thing possible! I thought you knew! Parseltongue is one of the signs of the heir of Slytherin! Only one person has been known to do it, and that's _Voldemort_!"

Lily finally understood.

"So my son has a gift only the heir of Slytherin has?"

"Yes," James hissed. "If people found this out, they'd think he's a Dark wizard of some kind, because talking to snakes is what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. That's why the symbol of Slytherin house is a serpent."

"But—he's not a Dark wizard," Lily said. "And you're an idiot if you think that changes anything about him—even though you're already one."

James ran a hand through his hair again. "It doesn't change anything," James said grudgingly. "I just don't know where he'd _get _it. If anything, my family has closer ties to _Gryffindor_, so—"

"Maybe we should just continue this conversation some other time," Remus interrupted. "Harry's a Parselmouth, but that doesn't change much. There are numerous ways Harry could've gotten that gift, so let's just drop it for now. I'm sure it'll come up again if there's anything odd about it."

"Of course there's something odd about it!" James said vehemently. "My son is a Parselmouth!"

"We've established," Remus said dryly. "Now will you let Lily continue?"

"Oh, all right then."

And James plopped back down on the floor and grabbed a Chocolate Frog.

"Besides, he hasn't said anything to the snake," Remus said. "He might just be good at reading animals."

Somehow, Remus looked as though he doubted it. So did the rest of the Marauders; Sirius especially looked as though he had smelled something disgusting just under his nose.

"_I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."_

_The snake nodded vigorously._

If there had been any doubt before, there certainly wasn't any now. There was silence as James bit into the head of his Chocolate Frog angrily, and Lily couldn't help being curious: How could her son be a Parselmouth, if there wasn't any history of Parseltongue in either of their families?

Lily shrugged to herself. She didn't know, but she was going to find out.

"_Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked._

_The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it._

_Boa constrictor, Brazil._

"_Was it nice there?"_

"My son just asked if it was nice... in Brazil," James muttered, "and he expects a response from a snake."

If Lily wasn't still a little angry at James for the Snape-comment and the Parseltongue-rant (as well as numerous other things, the top item on the list being the fact that he apparently thinks she would _ever _marry him), she would have laughed. As it was, she simply peered back down at the book.

_The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo._

"James, you were right," Peter said. "He doesn't know the difference between the wild and his tank, because he's never actually been in the wild."

"I figured."

"_Oh, I see—so you've never been to Brazil?"_

James shook his head. Lily herself couldn't believe what she was reading. Her son (she had to fight now to keep herself from saying 'our son'; the only thing that stopped her from doing so was the fact that she couldn't yet wrap her mind around the fact that she married Potter) had just asked a snake if it had been to Brazil...

Was it possible for her life to get any more out of the ordinary?

_As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T **BELIEVE **WHAT IT'S DOING!"_

Peter jumped; Lily had actually shouted the last couple lines—and honestly, it felt good to shout.

_Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could._

"Which isn't that fast, that stupid cow," Sirius muttered under his breath.

"_Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened—one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror._

_Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished._

"Cool!" James said.

"You have a great son, James!" Sirius said.

It seemed as though they had temporarily forgotten their anger—and confusion—over Harry being a Parselmouth, because they both grinned at each other and high-fived. James agreed vehemently with Sirius.

"Wish he'd fallen in," Peter muttered.

James laughed. "So do I, Pete!"

"That would have been hilarious."

_The great snake uncoiled itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor._

"Oh no."

_People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exists._

_As the snake slid swiftly past him, Harry could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come... Thanksss, amigo."_

James shook his head without a word.

"I can't believe Harry just let a boa constrictor loose," Sirius murmured. "If that didn't mean he was a Parselmouth, I'd be impressed."

Lily sighed. "Oh, come _on_," he said. "It's not the end of the world if he is. Just suck it up; I'm sure things will be fine even with him being a Parselmouth. Now stop being bigots."

Thankfully, James and Sirius had the grace to look abashed. Lily was pleased to see that Remus was nodding along with her, and Peter looked as though he agreed. Maybe she was getting the hang of being around the Marauders after all.

_The keeper of the reptile house was in shock._

"_But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?"_

"You know, that's a good question," Lily said thoughtfully. "When you Vanish things, where do they go? And how do you get them back?"

James shrugged. "Search me."

_The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber._

James seemed to be making an effort to forget Harry's Parseltongue abilities.

"Like they can do more than that normally," he muttered, and the Marauders laughed. Lily only pursed her lips and didn't say anything.

_As far as Harry had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?"_

"Oh, he's in trouble now," Sirius said. "You just know what they'll do."

"Yeah, lock him in the cupboard again," James replied, eyes narrowing. "God, I wish I was there."

Lily privately agreed, but didn't want to say that if they _were _there, Harry wouldn't be there, and as a result, they wouldn't have anything too terrible to get their revenge against. She didn't think it was the time to bring that up, though, so she kept her mouth shut in that regard.

_Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go—cupboard—stay—no meals," before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy._

"They're just going to leave him in there and starve him, then?" James asked. "Wonderful."

_Harry lay in his dark cupboard much later, wishing he had a watch. He didn't know what time it was and couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Until they were, he couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food._

Sirius grinned at James. "I see he's inherited your habit for sneaking, James."

"I just hope he's as good at it as I am," James muttered.

"Of course he is," Peter said.

_He'd lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as he could remember, ever since he'd been a baby and his parents had died in that car crash._

Lily opened her mouth to protest against "that car crash," but abruptly realized exactly _who _the book said were his parents, and shut her mouth. She read on, her voice shaking just slightly—she was probably the only one who could tell.

_He couldn't remember being in the car when his parents had died. Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead._

"He survived the Killing Curse," James whispered. "I expected it—but _wow._"

Remus shook his head in awe. "How did he _do _it?"

"I don't know," James said. "I can't even believe he can remember that far back. He must've been... what, less than two years old?"

"Something like that," Sirius said, and gestured impatiently for Lily to continue.

_This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where all the green light came from. He couldn't remember his parents at all. His aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course he was forbidden to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house._

Lily read this with her thoughts racing: How did he survive the Killing Curse? Why couldn't he remember anything about his parents? Why did she _want _him to remember something about his parents? Why wouldn't her sister and her husband talk about her? And shouldn't there be photographs?

Lily could only answer a few, and even those were the questions she only asked for the sake of asking—she already knew the answer. Harry obviously couldn't remember her because he had been too young when she had—when she had _died_, her sister didn't talk about her because she thought witches and wizards were freaks, and there were no photographs because Harry might come across them and that was perhaps the last thing in the world Petunia wanted.

He knew nothing about their world. He knew only what his aunt and uncle had told him, he knew only what he learned in Muggle school. He didn't know that he was a wizard, didn't know who his parents were.

Lily chewed on her lip for a moment, trying to banish those thoughts. She failed rather magnificently.

_When he had been younger, Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened; the Dursleys were his only family._

"Where am I?" Sirius asked, an undercurrent of some strong emotion in his voice. "Why haven't I come to get him?"

"Maybe you got caught by the Death Eaters," Remus suggested. "But—where am I? And Peter? And your families?"

Lily and James didn't have any answer. Lily herself was wondering the same thing: What happened to her parents, her cousins? They couldn't all die... could they? And yet... apparently they could.

"I don't know," she said simply, in a tone that said that this particular conversation was closed, at least temporarily.

_Yet sometimes he thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know him._

"Obviously they did," Remus said. "He's the Boy-Who-Lived after all. Wizards are bound to come across him and recognize him."

"He's not exactly inconspicuous," Sirius noted and, when everyone stared at him, said, "I know big words! Just... not many of them."

James snorted. "And Remus taught him everything he knows."

"Of course," Remus said, grinning.

_A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley._

"And they probably reacted well to that," James muttered sarcastically.

_After asking Harry furiously if he knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily to him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand the other day and then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Harry tried to get a closer look._

"They'd Apparate," Sirius said. "They wouldn't want any Muggles to feel suspicious toward them."

"Oh, really?" Lily asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "It seems as though they're actually unconcerned whether Muggles notice them. They just wanted a chance to look at Harry, like he's some pet to be ogled at."

"That's understandable," Sirius said. "After all, he did save the wizarding world."

_At school, Harry had no one. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang._

"So he has no friends," James muttered.

"Dudley's gang probably bullies anyone who dares disagree with them," Peter said. "No one wants to be his friend?"

"Apparently not."

There was a sigh, and Lily looked around the room.

"All right," she said. "That's two chapters in, and we still don't know much more about what happened than we did before. We don't know how we were killed—" she purposely did not say _James and I—_"or what else happened over the last ten years. Who else wants to read?"

"I will," Sirius said.

James grinned. "Sirius can _read_?"

"Oh, shut it," Sirius said, throwing the last bit of Cauldron Cake in James' direction. "I just want to know what happens to yours and Lily-bean's son, Jamesie."

"_Don't call me that_," Lily and James said at the same time.

"And it's not our son!" Lily said.

Sirius grinned. "Sure, Lily-bean, whatever you say," he said. "Now give me that book, will you?"

Lily threw the book in Sirius' direction. He caught it easily and began to read, an oddly amused gleam in his eye.

* * *

**Author's Note**: First of all, thanks so much for those people who reviewed the previous chapter! I appreciate it more than you guys know. I have a feeling this story will include a lot of character development (an element lacking in other "Marauders read Harry Potter" fics), just from Lily's reaction to the news she apparently marries James, so expect quite a bit of that. I am so excited about this idea, but it is going to be epic—just look at the length of the chapters for proof of that—so I need all the support I can get. Please review and tell me what you liked? Thanks!

By the way, in regards to the spells: "Ostendo" means "reveal" in Latin, and "veritas" means "truth." That means that "Ostendo veritas" basically means "Reveal truth" or "Show truth." It might not be proper Latin grammar, but—it was the best I could think of. Hopefully it works well enough.


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